MARCH 19TH

Ni ffyddra llaw dyn, er gwneithr da idd ei hun.[Welsh: We have frozen a hand tightly, but without God's help, it can do no good for itself.]

— Benjamin Franklin,1746

AMERICANREVOLUTION.ORG

Thacher's Journal

APPENDIX

NOTE I

GENERAL BURGOYNE, in his defence, after his
arrival in England, as commander of the Northern expedition,
has paid a just tribute of praise to American bravery. Adverting
to the action of the 19th of September, he says: "Few actions
have been characterized by more obstinacy in attack or defence.
The British bayonet was repeatedly tried Ineffectually. Eleven
hundred British soldiers, foiled in these trials, bore incessant
fire from a succession of fresh troops, in superior numbers,
for above four hours; and after a loss of above a third of their
number, and in one of the regiments above two-thirds, forced
the enemy at last. Of a detachment of a captain and forty-eight
artillerymen, the captain and thirty-six men were killed or wounded.
The tribute of praise due to such troops, will not be wanting
in this generous nation." His observations respecting the
action of the 7th of October, are expressed in the following
energetic and feeling language: "The losses in the action
were uncommonly severe. Sir Francis Clark, my aid-de-camp, had
originally recommended himself to my attention by his talents
and diligence. As service and intimacy opened his character more,
he became endeared to me by every quality that can create esteem.
I lost in him a useful assistant, an amiable companion, an attached
friend; the state was deprived by his death of one of the fairest
promises of an able general.

"The fate of ColonelAckland, taken prisoner,
and then supposed to be mortally wounded, was a second source
of anxiety. General Frazer was expiring.

"In the course of the action, a shot
had passed through my hat, and another had torn my waistcoat.
I should be sorry to be thought at any time insensible to the
protecting hand of Providence; but I ever more particularly considered
a soldier's hair-breadth escapes as incentives to duty, a marked
renewal of the trust of being, for the due purposes of a public
station; and under this reflection, to lose our fortitude, by
giving way to our affections, to be diverted by any possible
self-emotion from meeting a present exigency with our best faculties,
were at once dishonor and impiety."

General Frazer died of his wounds on the 8th
instant. Before his death, he requested that his body might be
carried, without parade, by the officers of his own corps to
the great redoubt, and there buried. About sun-set the corpse
was carried up the hill, and necessarily passed in view of both
armies. Generals Burgoyne, Phillips, and Reidesel placed themselves
in the humble procession. As General Gates was not made acquainted
with the intended solemnity, a constant cannonade was kept up
by our people, directed to the hill, where the ceremony was performed.
From the pen of General Burgoyne, we have the following. eloquent
delineation of the melancholy scene: "The incessant cannonade
during the solemnity, the steady attitude and unaltered voice
with which the clergyman officiated, though frequently covered
with dust, which the shot threw up on all sides of him; the mute,
but expressive mixture of sensibility and indignation on every
countenance; these objects will remain to the last of life on
the mind of every man who was present. The growing duskiness
added to the scenery, and the whole marked a character of this
juncture, that would make one of the finest subjects for the
pencil of a master that the field ever exhibited. To the canvas
and to the page of a more important historian, gallant friend!
I consign thy memory. There may thy talents, thy manly virtues,
their progress and their period, find due distinction; and long
may they survive, long after the frail record, of my pen shall
be forgotten!"

The following appropriate lines are from the
elegant pen of Mrs. Morton:

To gallant Gates, in war serenely
brave,
The tide of fortune turns its refluent wave;
Forced by his arm, the bold invaders yield
The prize and glory of the well-fought field;
Bleeding and lost the captured Ackland lies,
While leaden slumbers seal his Frazer's eyes;
Frazer! whose deeds unfading glories claim,
Endear'd by virtue, and adorn'd by fame.

LADY ACKLAND.

FURTHER particulars respecting the affecting
story of this distinguished lady have since appeared; and from
the writings of General Burgoyne and other sources I extract
the following. She accompanied Major Ackland to Canada in 1776,
and was called to attend on him while sick in a miserable hut
at Chamblee. In the expedition to Ticonderoga, in 1777, she was
positively enjoined not to expose herself to the risk and hazards
which might occur on that occasion; but Major Ackland, having
received a wound in the battle of Hubberton, she crossed Lake
Champlain to pay her attention to him. After this, she followed
his fortune, and shared his fatigue, while traversing the dreary,
woody country to Fort Edward. Here the tent in which they lodged
took fire by night, from which they escaped with the utmost difficulty.
During the action of the 19th of September, she was exposed to
great fatigue, and inexpressible anxiety for the fate of her
husband, being advanced in the front of the battle. On the 7th
of October, during the heat of the conflict, Lady Ackland took
refuge among the wounded and dying; her husband, commanding the
grenadiers, was in the most exposed part of the action, and she
in awful suspense awaiting his fate. The Baroness Reidesel, and
the wives of two other field-officers, were her companions in
painful apprehension. One of these officers was soon brought
in dangerously wounded, and the death of the other was announced.
It was not long before intelligence was received that the British
army was defeated, and that Major Ackland was desperately wounded
and taken. The next day she proposed to visit her husband in
the American camp. General 'Burgoyne observes, " Though
I was ready to believe, for I had experienced, that patience
and fortitude in a supreme degree wereto be found,as well as
every other virtue, under the most tender form, I was astonished
at this proposal.After so long an agitation
of the spirits, exhausted not only for want of rest, but absolutely
want of food, drenched in rain for twelve hours together, that
a woman should be capable of delivering herself to the enemy,
probably in the night, and uncertain into what hands she might
fall, appeared an effort above human nature. The assistance I
was enabled to give was small indeed; I had not even a cup of
wine to offer her; but I was told she had found from some kind
and fortunate hand a little rum and dirty water. All I could
furnish to her was an open boat and a few lines written on dirty
and wet paper to General Gates, recommending her to his protection.
It is due to justice, at the close of this adventure, to say,
that she was received and accommodated by General Gates, with
all the humanity and respect that her rank, her merits, and her
fortunes deserved.

"Let such as are affected by these, circumstances
of alarm, hardship and danger, recollect that the subject of
them was a woman of the most tender and delicate frame; of the
gentlest manners; habituated to all the soft elegancies and refined
enjoyments that attend high birth and fortune; and far advanced
in a state in which the tender cares, always due to the sex,
become indispensably necessary. Her mind alone was formed for
such trials."

The adventures of Lady Ackland have been a
theme for the display of the poetic talents of the accomplished
lady of Perez Morton, Esq. It is regretted that the limits of
this production will not admit of more than the following lines,
and those on the preceding page, from that excellent poem:

"T'was now the time, when twilight's
misty ray
Drops the brown curtain of retiring day;
The clouds of heaven, like midnight mountains, lower,
Waft the wild blast, and dash the drizzly shower:
Through the wet path her restless footsteps roam,
To where the leader spread his spacious dome;
Low at his feet she pours the desperate prayer -
'Give my lost husband to my soothing care:
Give me, in yonder solitary cave,
With duteous love, his burning wounds to lave,
On the warm pillow, which this breast supplies,
Catch his faint breath, and close his languid eyes,
Or in his cause my proffer'd life resign,
Mine were his blessings, and his pains are mine!"

NOTE II

THE following sketch, borrowed from the Memoirs
of General Wilkinson, is too highly interesting to be omitted;
every reader of taste will be gratified with the perusal, and
for myself, I owe to General Wilkinson only an apology for the
liberty I have taken.

Extract from the Baroness Reidesel's Narrative
"As we had to march still further, I ordered a large calash
to be built, capable of holding my three children, myself, and
two female servants; in this manner we moved with the army in
the midst of the soldiery, who were very merry, singing songs,
and panting for action. We had to travel through almost impassable
woods and a most picturesque and beautiful country, which was
abandoned by its inhabitants, who had repaired to the standard
of General Gates; they added much to his strength, as they were
all good marksmen, and fitted by habit for the species of warfare
the contending parties were then engaged in - and the love of
their country inspired them with more than ordinary courage.
The army had shortly to encamp;I generally remained about an
hour's march in the rear, where I received daily visits from
my husband; the army was frequently engaged in small affairs,
but nothing of importance took place; and as the season was getting
cold, Major Williams of the artillery proposed to have a house
built for me with a chimney, observing that it would not cost
more than five or six guineas, and that the frequent change of
quarters was very inconvenient to me; it was accordingly built,
and was called the Block-house from its square form and the resemblance
it bore to those buildings.

"On the 19th of September, an affair
happened which, though it turned out to our advantage, yet obliged
us to halt at a place called Freeman's farm; I was an eye-witness
to the whole affair, and as my husband was engaged in it I was
full of anxiety, and trembled at every shot I heard; I saw a
great number of the wounded, and, what added to the distress
of the scene, three of them were brought into the house in which
I took shelter; one was a Major Harnage of the sixty-second British
regiment, the husband of a lady of my acquaintance; another was
a lieutenant, married to a lady with whom I had the honor to
be on terms of intimacy, and the third was an officer of the
name of Young.

"In a short time afterwards I heard groans
proceeding from a room near mine, and knew they must have been
occasioned by the sufferings of the last-mentioned officer, who
lay writhing with his wounds.

"His mournful situation interested me
much, and the more so, because the recollection of many polite
attentions, received from a family of that name during my visit
to England, was still forcibly impressed on my mind. I sent to
him, and begged him to accept my best services, and afterwards
furnished him with food and refreshments; he expressed a great
desire to see me, politely calling me his benefactress. I accordingly
visited him, and found him lying on a little straw, as he had
lost- his equipage. He was a young man, eighteen or nineteen
years of age, and really the beloved nephew of the Mr. Young,
the head of the family I have mentioned, and the only son of
his parents. This last circumstance was what he lamented most;
as to his pain, he thought lightly of it. He had lost much blood,
and it was thought necessary to amputate the leg; but this he
would not consent to, and of course a mortification took place.
I sent him cushions and coverings, and my female friends sent
him a mattress. I redoubled my attention to him, and visited
him every day, for which I received a thousand wishes for my
happiness. At last his limb was amputated, but it was too late,
and he died the following day. As he lay in the next room to
me, and the partition was very thin, I distinctly heard his last
sigh, when his immortal part quitted its frail tenement, and,
I trust, winged its way to the mansions of eternal bliss.

"But severer trials awaited us, and on
the 7th of October our misfortunes began; I was at breakfast
with my husband, and heard that something was intended. On the
same day I expected Generals Burgoyne, Phillips and Frazer to
dine with us. I saw a great movement among the troops; my husband
told me it was merely a reconnoisance, which gave me no concern,
as it often happened.I walked out of
the house, and met several Indians in their war dresses, with
guns in their hands. When I asked them where they were going,
they cried out, 'War! war!' meaning that they were going to battle.
This filled me with apprehension, and I had scarcely got home
before I beard reports of cannon and musketry, which grew louder
by degress, till at last the noise became excessive. About four
o'clock in the afternoon, instead of the guests whom I expected,
General. Frazer was brought on a litter, mortally wounded. The
table, which was already set, was instantly removed, and a bed
placed in its stead for the wounded general. I sat trembling
in a corner; the noise grew louder, and the alarm increased;
the thought that my husband might perhaps be brought in, wounded
in the same manner, was terrible to me, and distressed me exceedingly.
General Frazer said to the surgeon, 'Tell me if my wound is mortal,
do not flatter me.' The ball had passed through his body, and
unfortunately for the general, he had eaten a very hearty breakfast,
by which the stomach was distended, and the ball, as the surgeon
said, had passed through it. I heard him often exclaim, with
a sigh, 'O fatal ambition! Poor General Burgoyne! Oh, my poor
wife!' He was asked if he had any request to make, to which he
replied; that, 'If General Burgoyne would permit it, he should
like to be buried at six o'clock in the evening, on the top of
a mountain, in a redoubt which had been built there.' I did not
know which way to turn: all the other rooms were full of sick.
Towards evening I saw my husband coming. Then I forgot all my
sorrows, and thanked God that he was spared to me. He ate in
great haste with me and his aid-de-camp, behind the house. We
had been told that we had the advantage over the enemy, but the
sorrowful faces I beheld told a different tale, and before my
husband went away he took me aside, and said every thing was
going very badly; that I must keep myself in readiness to leave
the place, but not to mention it to any one. I made the pretence
that I would move the next morning into my new house, and had
every thing packed up ready.

"Lady Ackland had a tent not far from
our house; in this she slept, and the rest of the day she was
in the camp. All of a sudden a man came to tell her that her
husband was mortally wounded and taken prisoner; on hearingthis she became very miserable; we comforted
her by telling her that the wound was only slight, and at the
same .time advised her to go over to her husband, to do which,
she would certainly obtain permission, and then she would attend
him herself; she was a charming woman, and very fond of him.
I spent much of the night in comforting her, and then went again
to my children, whom I had put to bed. I could not go to sleep,
as I had General Frazer and all the other wounded gentlemen in
my room, and I was sadly afraid my children would wake, and by
their crying disturb the dying man in his last moments, who often
addressed me, and apologized 'for the trouble he gave me.'
About three o'clock in the morning I was told that he could not
hold out much longer; I had desired to be informed of the near
approach of this sad crisis, and I then wrapped up my children
in their clothes, and went with them into the room below. About
eight o'clock in the morning he died. After he was laid
out, and his corpse wrapped up in a sheet, we came again into
the room, and had this sorrowful sight before us the whole day,
and, to add to the melancholy scene, almost every moment some
officer of my acquaintance was brought in wounded. The cannonade
commenced again; a retreat was spoken of, but not the smallest
motion was made towards it. About four o'clock in the afternoon,
I saw the house which had just been built for me in flames, and
the enemy was now not far off. We knew that General Burgoyne
would not refuse the last request of General Frazer, though,
by his acceding to it, an unnecessary delay was occasioned by
which the inconvenience of the army was much increased. At six
o'clock the corpse was brought out, and we saw all the generals
attend it to the mountain; the chaplain, Mr. Brudenell, performed
the funeral service, rendered unusually solemn and awful from
its being accompanied by constant peals from the enemy's artillery.
Many cannon-balls flew close by me, but I had my eyes directed
towards the mountain (The height occupied by Burgoyne on the
18th which ran parallel With the river till it approached General
Gates' camp), where my husband was standing, amidst the fire
of the enemy, and of course I could not think of my own danger.

"General Gates afterwards said that,
if he had known it had been a funeral, he would not have permitted
it to be fired on.

"So soon as the funeral-service was finished,
and the grave of General Frazer was closed, an order was issued
that the army should retreat. My calash was prepared, but I would
not consent to go before the troops. Major Harnage, though suffering
from his wounds, crept from his bed, as he did not wish to remain
in the hospital, which was left with a flag of truce. When General
Reidesel saw me in the midst of danger, he ordered my women and
children to be brought into the calash, and intimated to me to
depart without delay. I still prayed to remain, but my husband,
knowing my weak side, said, 'Well, then, your children must go,
at least they may be safe from danger.' I then agreed to enter
the calash with them, and we set off at eight o'clock.

"The retreat was ordered to be conducted
with the greatest silence; many fires were lighted, and several
tents left standing; we travelled continually during the night.
At six o'clock in the morning we halted, which excited the surprise
of all; General Burgoyne had the cannon ranged and counted; this
delay seemed to displease every body, for if we could only have
made another good march, we should have been in safety. My husband,
quite exhausted with fatigue, came into my calash, and slept
for three hours. During that time, Captain Willoe brought me
a bag full of bank notes, and Captain Grismar his elegant watch,
a ring, and a purse full of money, which they requested me to
take care of, and which I promised to do to the utmost of my
power. We again marched, but had scarcely proceeded an hour before
we halted, as the enemy was in sight; it proved to be only a
reconnoitering party of two hundred men, who might easily have
been made prisoners, if General Burgoyne had given proper orders
on the occasion.

"The Indians had now lost their courage,
and were departing for their homes; these people appeared to
droop much under adversity, and especially when they had no prospect
of plunder. One of my waiting-women was in a state of despair,
which approached to madness; she cursed and tore her hair, and
when I attempted to reason with her, and to pacify her,. she
asked me if I was not grieved at our situation, and on my saying
I was, she tore her cap off her head and let her hair drop over
her face, saying to me 'It is very easy for you to be composed
and talk; you have your husband with you; I have none; and what
remains to me but the prospect of perishing or losing all I have!'
I again bade her take comfort and assured her I would make good
whatever she might happen to lose; and I made the same promise
to Ellen, my other waiting-woman who, though filled with apprehensions,
made no complaints.

"About evening we arrived at Saratoga;
my dress was wet through and through with rain, and in this state
I had to remain the whole night, having no place to change it;
I, however got close to large fire, and at last lay down on some
straw. At this moment General Phillips came up to me, and I asked
him why he had not continued our retreat, as my husband had promised
to cover it and bring the army through? 'Poor dear woman,' said
he,'I wonder how, drenched as you are, you have the courage still
to persevere and venture further in this kind of weather! I wish,'
continued he, 'You was our commanding-general; General Burgoyne
is tired, and means to halt here to-night and give us our supper.'

"On the, morning of the 7th, at ten o'clock,
General Burgoyne ordered the retreat to be continued, aid caused
the handsome houses and mills of General Schuyler to be burned;
we marched however, but a short distance and then halted. The
greatest misery at this time prevailed in the army, and more
than thirty officers came to me, for whom tea and coffee was
prepared, and and with whom I shared all my provisions, With
which my calash was in general well supplied; for I had a cook
who was an excellent caterer, and who often in the night crossed
small rivers and foraged on the inhabitants, bringing in with
him sheep, small pigs, and poultry, for which he very often forgot
to pay, though he received good 'pay from me so long as I had
any, and was ultimately handsomely rewarded. Our provisions now
failed us for want of proper conduct in the commissary's department,
and I began to despair. About two oclock in the afternoon we
again heard a firing of cannon and small-arms; instantly all
was alarm, and every thing insmotion. My husband told me to go
to a house not far off; I immediately Seated myself in my calash,
with my children, and drove off; but scarcely had we reached
it before I discovered five or six armed men on the other side
of the Hudson; instinctively I threw my children down in the
calash, and then concealed myself with them; at this moment the
fellows fired and wounded an already wounded English soldier,
who was behind me. Poor, fellow! pitied him exceedingly, but
at this moment had no means or power to relieve him. A terrible
cannonade was commenced by the enemy, which was directed against
the house in which I sought to obtain shelter for myself, and
children, under the mistaken idea that all the generals were
in it. Alas! it contained none but wounded and women; we were
at last obliged to resort to the cellar for refuge, and in one
corner of this I remained the whole day, my children sleeping
on the earth with their heads in my lap; and in the same situation
I passed a. sleepless night. Eleven cannon-balls passed through
the house, and we could distinctly hear them roll away. One poor
soldier, who was lying on a table for the purpose of having his
leg amputated, was struck by a shot, which carried away his other;
his comrades had left him, and when we went to his assistance
we found him in a corner of the room,hinto which he had crept,
more dead than alive, scarcely breathing. My reflections on the
danger to which my husband was exposed now agonized me exceedingly,
and the thoughts of my children and the necessity of struggling
for their preservation alone sustained tained me.

"The ladies of the army who were with
me were Mrs. Harnage, a Mrs. Kennels, the widow of a lieutenant
who was killed, and, the lady of the commissary. Major Harnage,
his wife, and Mrs. Kennels, made a little room in a corner with
curtains to it, and wished to do the same for me, but I preferred
being near the door, in case of fire. Not far off, my women slept,
and opposite to us three English officers, who, though wounded,
were determined not to be left behind: one of them was Captain
Green, an aid-de-camp to Major-General Phillips, a very valuable
officer and most agreeable man. They each made me a most sacred
promise not to leave me behind, and in case of sudden retreat,
that they would each of them take one of my children on his horse,
and for myself, one of my husbands was in constant readiness.

"Our cook, whom I have before mentioned,
procured us our meals, but we were in want of water, and I was
often obliged to drink wine and to give it to my children. It
was the only thing my husband took, which made our faithful Hunter,
Rockel, express one day his apprehensions that 'the general was
weary of his life, or fearful of being taken, as he drank so
much wine.' The constant danger which my husband was in, kept
me in a state of wretchedness, and I asked myself if it was possible
I should be the only happy one, and have my husband spared to
me unhurt, exposed as he was to so many perils. He never entered
his tent, but laid down whole nights by the watch-fires; this
alone was enough to have killed him, the cold was so intense.

"The want of water distressed us much.
At length we found a soldier's wife who had courage enough to
fetch us some from the river, an office nobody else would undertake,
as the Americans shot at every person who approached it; but
out of respect for her sex they never molested her.

"I now occupied myself through the day
in attending the wounded; I made them tea and coffee, and often
shared my dinner with them, for which they offered me a thousand
expressions of gratitude. One day a Canadian officer came to
our cellar, who had scarcely the power of holding himself upright,
and we concluded he was dying for want of nourishment; I was
happy in offering him my dinner, which strengthened him and procured
me his friendship. I now undertook the care of Major Bloomfield,
another aid-de-camp of General Phillips; he had received a musket-ball
through both cheeks, which in its course bad knocked out several
of his teeth, and cut his tongue; he, could hold nothing in his
mouth; the matter which ran from his wound almost choked him
, and he was not able to take any nourishment except a little
soup, or something liquid; we had some Rhenish wine, and in the
hope that the acidity of it would cleanse his wound, I gave him
a bottle of it; he took a little now and then, and with such
effect that his cure soon followed. Thus I added another to my
stock of friends, and derived a. satisfaction which, in the midst
of sufferings, served to tranquillize me and diminish their acuteness.

" One day General Phillips accompanied
my husband, at the risk of their lives, on a visit to us, who,
after having witnessed our situation, said to him, 'I would not
for ten thousand guineas come again to this place; my heart is
almost broken.'

" In this horrid situation we remained
six days; a cessation of hostilities was now spoken of, and eventually
took place; a convention was afterwards agreed on; but one day
a message was sent to my husband, who had visited me and was
reposing in my bed, to attend a council of war, where it was
proposed to break the convention: but, to my great joy, the majority
were for adhering to it. On the 16th, however, my husband had
to repair to his post, and I to my cellar; this day fresh beef
was served out to the officers, who till now had only had salt
provisions, which was very bad for their wounds. The good woman
who brought us water, made us an excellent soup of the meat,
but I had lost my appetite, and took nothing but crusts of bread
dipped in wine. The wounded officers, my unfortunate companions,
cut off the best bit and presented it to me on a plate, I declined
eating any thing, but they contended that it was necessary for
me to take nourishment, and declared they would not touch a morsel
till I afforded them the pleasure of seeing me partake. I could
no longer withstand their pressing invitations, accompanied as
they were by assurances of the happiness they had in offering
me the first good thing they had in their power, and I partook
of a repast rendered palatable by the kindness and good-will
of my fellow-sufferers, forgetting for the moment the misery
of our apartment, and the absence of almost every comfort.

"On the 17th of October, the convention
was completed. General Burgoyne and the other generals waited
on the American General Gates; the troops laid down their arms,
and gave themselves's up prisoners of war! And now the good woman
who had supplied us with water at the hazard of her life, received
the reward of her services; each of us threw a handful of money
into her apron, and she got altogether about twenty guineas.
At such a moment as this, how susceptible is the heart of feelings
of gratitude!

"My husband sent a message to me to come
over to him with my children. I seated myself once more in my
dear calash, and then rode through the American camp. As I passed
on, I observed (and this was a great consolation to me) that
no one eyed me with looks of resentment, but that they all greeted
us, and even showed compassion in their countenances at the sight
of a woman with small children. I was, I confess, afraid to go
over to the enemy, as it was quite a new situation to me. When
I drew near the tents, a handsome man approached and met me,
took my children from the calash, and hugged and kissed them,
which affected me almost to tears. 'You tremble,' said he,
addressing himself to me; 'be not afraid.' 'No,' I answered;
'you seem so kind and tender to my children, it inspires me with
courage.' He now led me to the tent of General Gates, where I
found Generals Burgoyne and Phillips, who were on a friendly
footing with the former. Burgoyne said to me 'Never mind; your
sorrows have now an end.' I answered him, 'that I should be reprehensible
to have any cares, as he had none;' and I was pleased to see
him on such a friendly footing with General Gates. All the generals
remained to dine with General Gates.

"The same gentleman who received me so
kindly, now came and said to me, 'You will be very much embarrassed
to eat with all these gentlemen; come with your children to my
tent, where I will prepare for you a frugal dinner, and give
it with a free will.' I said, 'You are certainly a husband and
a father, you have shown me so much kind ness.' I now found that
he was General Schuyler. He treated me with excellent smoked
tongue, beef-steaks, potatoes, and good bread and butter! Never
could I have wished to eat a better dinner; I was content: I
saw all around me were so likewise; and, what was better than
all, my husband was out of danger. When we had dined, he told
me his residence was at Albany, and that General Burgoyne intended
to honor him as his guest, and invited myself and children to
do so likewise. I asked my husband how I should act; he told
me to accept the invitation. As it was two days' journey there,
he advised me to go to a place which was about three hours ride
distant. General Schuyler had the politeness to send with me
a French officer, a very agreeable man, who commanded the reconnoitering
party, of which I have before spoken; and when he had escorted
me to the house where I was to remain, he turned back again.
In the house, I found a French surgeon, who had under his care
a Brunswick officer, who was mortally wounded, and died some
few days afterwards, The Frenchman boasted much of the care he
took of his patient, and perhaps was skillful enough as a surgeon,
but otherwise was a mere simpleton; he was rejoiced when he found
out I could speak his language, and began to address many empty
and impertinent speeches to me. He said, among other things,
he could not believe that I was a general's wife, as he was certain
a woman of such rank would not follow her husband; he wished
me to remain with him, as he said it was better to be with the
conquerors than the conquered. I was shocked at his impudence,
but, dared not show the contempt and disdain I felt for him,
because it would deprive me of a place of safety. Towards evening
he begged me to take a part of his chamber. I told him I was
determined to remain in the room with the wounded officer; whereon
he attempted to pay me some stupid compliments. At this moment
the door opened, and my husband with his aid-de-camp entered.
I then said, 'Here, sir, is my husband,' and at the same time
eyed him with scorn, whereon he retired abashed; nevertheless
he was so polite as to offer his chamber to us.

"Some days after this we arrived at Albany,
where we so often wished ourselves; but we did not enter it as
we expected we should-victors! We were received by the good
General Schuyler, his wife, and daughters, not as enemies,
but kind friends, and they treated us with the most marked attention
and politeness, as they did General Burgoyne, who had caused
General Schuyler's beautifully finished house to be burned. In
fact, they behaved like persons of exalted minds, who determined
to bury all recollection of their own injuries in the
contemplation of our misfortunes. General Burgoyne was
struck with General Schuyler's generosity, and said to him, You
show me great kindness though I have done you much injury.' 'That
was the fate of war,' replied the brave man; 'let us say no more
about it.'"

NOTE III

MR. BUSHNELL'S squadron of kegs, committed
to the Delaware in 1777, produced an unprecedented alarm among
the British fleet at Philadelphia, and the singular catastrophe
was, by the Hon. Francis Hopkinson, made a subject of the following
song, which has been, and ever will, be, celebrated for the brilliancy
of its wit and humor:

T'was early day,
Just when the sun was rising,
A soldier stood on a log of wood,
And saw a sight surprising.

As in a maze he stood to gaze -
The truth can't be denied, sir -
He spied a score of kegs or more
Come floating down the tide, sir.

A sailor, too, in jerkin blue,
The strange appearance viewing,
First damn'd his eyes, in great surprise,
Then said, "Some mischief's brewing:

"These kegs now hold the rebels
bold,
Pack'd up like pickled herring;
And they're come t'attack the town
In this new way of ferrying."

The soldier flew; the sailor too;
And scared almost to death, sir,
Wore out their shoes to spread the news,
And ran till out of breath, sir.

Now up and down, throughout the town,
Most frantic scenes were acted;
And some ran here, and some ran there,
Like men almost distracted.

Some fire cried, which some denied,
But said the earth had quaked.
And girls and boys, with hideous noise,
Ran through the town half-naked.

Sir William* he, snug as a flea,
Lay all this time a snoring;
Nor dreamt of harm, as he lay warm
In bed with Mrs. L-ng.**

Now in a fright he starts upright,
Awaked by such a clatter;
He rubs both eyes, and boldly cries,
"For God's sake, what's the matter?"

At his bed-side he then espied
Sir Erskine*** at command, sir;
Upon one foot he had one boot,
And t'other in his hand, sir.

"Arise! Arise!" Sir Erskine
cries;
"The rebels - more's the pity -
Without a boat, are all on float,
And ranged before the city.

The motley crew, in vessels new,
With Satan for their guide, sir,
Pack'd up in bags or wooden kegs,
Come driving down the tide, sir:

Therefore prepare for bloody war;
These kegs must all be routed,
Or surely we despised shall be,
And British courage doubted.

The royal band now ready stand,
All arranged in dread array, sir,
With stomachs stout, to see it out,
And make a bloody day, sir.

The cannons roar from shore to shore,
The small arms make a rattle:
Since wars began, I'm sure no man
E'er saw so strange a battle.

The rebel vales, the rebel dales,
With rebel trees surrounded,
The distant woods, the hills and floods
With rebel echoes echoes sounded

The fish below swam to and fro,
Attack'd from every quarter;
"Why sure," thought they, "the devil's to pay
"'Mongst folks above the water."

The kegs, 'tis said, though strongly
made
Of rebel staves and hoops, sir,
Could not oppose their pow'rful foes,
The conqu'ring British troops, sir.

From morn to night these men of might
Display'd amazing courage:
And when the sun was fairly down,
Retired to sup their porridge.

A hundred men, with each a pen,
Or more, upon my word, sir,
It is most true, would be too few
Their valor to record, sir.

Such feats did they perform that day,
Upon these wicked kegs, sir,
That years to come, if they get home,
They'll make their boasts and brags, sir.

* Sir William Howe
** The wife of Joshua Loring, a refugee from Boston, made commissary
of prisoners by General Howe. "The consumate cruelties practiced
on American prisoners under his administration, almost exceed
the ordinary powers of human imagination. The conduct of the
Turks in putting all prisoners to death, is certainly more rational
and humane, than that of the British army for the first three
years of the American war, or till after the capture of Burgoyne."
***Sir William Erskine

NOTE IV

THE following is an abstract of an interesting
narrative taken from the travels of the late Dr. Dwight:

After the failure of the expedition against
the British garrison at Penobscot, General Peleg Wadsworth was
appointed in the spring of 1780 to the command of a party of
state troops in Camden, in the District of Maine. At the expiration
of the period for which the troops were engaged, in February
following, General Wadsworth dismissed his troops, retaining
six soldiers only as his guard, and he was making preparations
to depart from the place. A neighboring inhabitant communicated
his situation to the British commander at Penobscot, and a party
of twenty-five soldiers, commanded by Lieutenant Stockton, was
sent to make him a prisoner. They embarked in a small schooner,
and landing within four miles of the general's quarters, they
were concealed at the house of one Snow, a methodist preacher,
professedly a friend to him, but really a traitor, till eleven
o'clock in the evening, where they made their arrangements for
the attack on the general's quarters. The party rushed suddenly
on the sentinel, who gave the alarm, and one of his comrades
instantly opened the door of the kitchen, and the enemy were
so near as to enter with the sentinel. The lady of the general,
and her friend Miss Fenno, of Boston, were in the house at the
time, and Mrs. Wadsworth escaped from the room of her husband
into that of Miss Fenno. The assailants soon became masters of
the whole house, except the room where the general was, and which
was strongly barred, and they kept up a constant firing of musketry
into the windows and doors except into those of the ladies' room.
General Wadsworth was provided with a pair of pistols, a blunderbuss
and a fusee, which he employed with great dexterity, being determined
to defend: himself to the. last moment. With his pistols, which
he discharged several times, he defended the windows of his room
and a door which opened into the kitchen. His blunderbuss he
snapped several times, but unfortunately it missed fire. He then
seized his fusee, which he discharged on some who were breaking
through one of the windows, and obliged them to flee. He next
defended himself with his bayonet, till he received a ball through
his left arm, when he surrendered, which terminated the contest.
The firing, however, did not cease from the kitchen till the
general unbarred the door, when the soldiers rushed into the
room, and one of them who had been badly wounded, pointing a
musket at his breast exclaimed, with an oath, "You have
taken my life, and I will take yours." But Lieutenant Stockton
turned the musket, and saved his life. The commanding officer
now applauded the general for his admirable defence, and assisted
in putting on his clothes, saying, "You see we are in a
critical situation: you must excuse haste.'' Mrs. Wadsworth threw
a blanket over him, and Miss Fenno applied a handkerchief closely
round his wounded arm. in this condition, though much exhausted,
he, with a wounded American soldier was directed to march on
foot, while two British wounded soldiers were mounted on a horse
taken from the general's barn. They departed in great haste.
When they had proceeded about a mile, they met, at a small house,
a number of people, who had collected, and who inquired if they
had taken General Wadsworth. They said no, and added, that they
must leave a wounded man in their care, and if they paid proper
attention to him they should be compensated, but if not, they
would burn down their house; but the man appeared to be dying.
General Wadsworth was now mounted on the horse behind the other
wounded soldier, and was warned that his safety depended on his
silence. Having crossed over a frozen mill-pond, about a mile
in length, they were met by some of their party who had been
left behind. At this place they found the British privateer which
brought the party from the fort. The captain, on being told that
he must return there with the prisoner and the party, and seeing
some of his men wounded, became outrageous, and damned the general
for a rebel, demanded how he dared to fire on the king's troops,
and ordered him to help launch the boat, or he would put his
hanger through his body. The general replied that he was a prisoner,
and badly wounded, and could not assist in launching the boat.
Lieutenant Stockton, on learning of this abusive treatment, in
a manner honorable to himself, told the captain that the prisoner
was a gentleman, had made a a brave defence, and was to be treated
accordingly; and added, that his conduct should be represented
to General Campbell. After this, the captain treated the prisoner
with great civility, and afforded him every comfort in his power.
General Wadsworth had left the ladies in the house, not a window
of which escaped destruction. The doors were broken down, and
two of the rooms were set on fire; the floors covered with blood,
and on one of them lay a brave old soldier, dangerously wounded,
begging for death, that be might be released from misery. The
anxiety and distress of Mrs. Wadsworth was inexpressible, and
that of the general was greatly increased by the uncertainty
in his mind respecting the fate of his little son, only five
years old,, who had been exposed to every danger by the firing
into the house, but he had the happiness afterwards to hear of
his safety. Having arrived at the British post, the capture of
General Wadsworth was soon announced, and the shore thronged
with spectators, to see the man who, through the preceding year,
had disappointed all the designs of the British in that quarter;
and loud shouts were heard from the rabble which covered the
shore; but when he arrived at the, fort, and was conducted into
the officers' guard-room, he was treated with politeness. General
Campbell, the commandant of the British garrison, sent his compliments
to him and a surgeon to dress his wounds, assuring him that his
situation should be made comfortable. The next morning, General
Campbell invited him to breakfast, and at table paid him many
compliments on the defence he had made, observing, however, that
be had exposed himself in a degree not perfectly justifiable.
General Wadsworth replied that from the manner of the attack,
he had no reason to suspect any design of taking him alive, and
that he intended therefore to sell his life as dearly as possible.
"But, sir," said General Campbell, "I understand
that the captain of the privateer treated you very ill; I shall
see that matter set right." He then informed the prisoner
that a room in the officers' barracks within the fort was prepared
for him, and that he should send his orderly-sergeant daily to
attend him to breakfast and dinner at his table. Having retired
to his solitary apartment, and while his spirits were extremely
depressed by a recollection of the past, and by his present situation,
be received from General Campbell several books of amusement,
and soon after a visit from him, kindly endeavoring to cheer
the spirits of his prisoner by conversation. Not long after,
the officers of the party called, and among others the redoubtable
captain of the privateer, who called to ask pardon for what had
fallen from him when in a passion; adding that it was not in
his, nature to treat a gentleman prisoner ill; that the unexpected
disappointment of his cruise had thrown him off his guard, and
he hoped that this would be deemed a sufficient apology. This
General Wadsworth accepted. At the hour of dining he was invited
to take table of the commandant, where he met with all the principal
officers of the garrison, and from whom he received particular
attention and politeness. General Wadsworth soon made application
to the commandant for a flag of truce, by which means he could
transmit a letter to the governor of Massachusetts, and another
to Mrs. Wadsworth. This was granted, on the condition that the
letter to the governor should be inspected. The flag was intrusted
to Lieutenant Stockton, and on his return, the general was relieved
from all anxiety respecting his wife and family. General Campbell
and the officers of the garrison continued their civilities for
some time, and endeavored by books and personal visits to render
his situation as pleasant as circumstances would admit of. At
the end of five weeks, his wound being nearly healed, he requested
of General Campbell the customary privilege of a parole, and
received, in reply, that his case had been reported to the commanding
officer at New York, and that no alteration could be made till
orders were received from that quarter. In about two months,
Mrs. Wadsworth and Miss Fenno arrived, and General Campbell and
some of the officers contributed to render their visit agreeable
to all concerned. About the same time, orders were received from
the commanding general at New York, which were concealed from
General Wadsworth, but he finally learned that he was not to
be paroled nor exchanged, but was to be sent to England as a
rebel of too much consequence to be at liberty. Not long afterwards
Major Benjamin Burton, a brave and worthy man, who had served
under General Wadsworth the preceding summer, was taken and brought
into the fort, and lodged in the same room with General Wadsworth.
He bad been informed that both himself and the General were to
be sent immediately after the return of a privateer now out on
a cruise, either to New York or Halifax, and thence to England.
The prisoners immediately resolved to make a desperate attempt
to effect their escape. They were confined in a grated room in
the officers' barracks within the fort. The walls of this fortress,
exclusively of the depth of the ditch surrounding it, were twenty
feet high, with fraising on the top, and chevaux de frise
at the bottom. Two sentinels were always in the entry, and their
door, the upper part of which was of glass, might be opened by
these watchmen whenever they thought proper, and was actually
opened at seasons of peculiar darkness and silence. At the exterior
doors of the entries, sentinels were also stationed, as were
others in the body of the fort, and at the quarters of General
Campbell. At the guard-house, a strong guard was daily mounted.
Several sentinels were stationed on the walls of the fort, and
a complete line occupied them by night. Without the ditch, glacis
and abatis, another complete set of soldiers patroled through
the night also. The gate of the fort was shut at sun-set, and
a piquet-guard was placed on or near the isthmus leading from
the fort to the main land.

The room in which they were confined was railed
with boards. One of these they determined to cut off, so as to
make a hole large enough to pass through, and then to creep along
till they should come to the next or middle entry; and then lower
themselves down into this entry by a blanket. If they should
not be discovered, the passage to the walls of the fort was easy.
In the evening after the sentinels had seen the prisoners retire
to bed, General Wadsworth got up, and, standing in a chair, attempted
to cut with his knife the intended opening but soon found it
impracticable. The next day, by giving a soldier a dollar, they
procured a gimblet. With this instrument they proceeded cautiously
and as silently as possible to perforate the board, and in order
to conceal every appearance from their servants and from the
officers their visitors, they carefully covered the gimblet-holes
with chewed bread. At the end of three weeks their labors were
so far completed that it only remained to cut with a knife, the
parts which were left to hold the piece in its place. When their
preparations were finished, they learned that the privateer in
which they were to embark was daily expected. In the evening
of the 18th of June, a very severe storm of rain, with great
darkness and almost incessant lightning came on. This the prisoners
considered as the propitious moment. Having extinguished their
lights, they began to cut the corners of the board, and in less
than an hour the intended opening was completed. The noise which
the operation occasioned was drowned by the rain falling on the
roof. Major Burton first ascended to the ceiling, and pressed
himself through the opening. General Wadsworth next, having put
the corner of his blanket through the hole, and made it fast
by a strong wooden skewer, attempted to make his way through,
standing on a chair below, but it was with extreme difficulty
that he at length effected it, and reached the middle entry.
From this he passed through the door, which he found open, and
made his way to the wall of the fort, and had to encounter the
greatest difficulty before he could ascend to the top. He had
now to creep along the top of the fort between the sentry boxes
at the very moment when the relief was shifting sentinels, but
the falling of heavy rain kept the sentinels within their boxes,
and favored his escape. Having now fastened his blanket round
a picket at the top, he let himself down through the chevaux
de frise to the ground, and in a manner astonishing to himself
made his way into the open field. Here he was obliged to grope
his way among rocks, stumps and brush in the darkness of night,
till he reached the cove; happily the tide had ebbed, and enabled
him to cross the water, about a mile in breadth and not more
than three feet deep. About two o'clock in the morning General
Wadsworth found himself a mile and a half from the fort, and
he proceeded through a thick wood and brush to the Penobscot
river, and after passing some distance along the shore, being
seven miles from the fort, to his unspeakable joy he saw his
friend Burton advancing towards him. Major Burton had been obliged
to encounter in his course equal difficulties with his companion,
and such were the incredible perils, dangers and obstructions
which they surmounted, that their escape may be considered almost
miraculous. It was now necessary they should cross the Penobscot
river, and very fortunately they discovered a canoe with oars
on the shore suited to their purpose. While on the river they
discovered a barge with a party of British from the fort in pursuit
of them, but by taking an oblique course, and plying their oars
to the utmost, they happily eluded the eyes of their pursuers,
and arrived safe on the western shore. After having wandered
in the wilderness for several days and nights, exposed to extreme
fatigue and cold, and with no other food than a little dry bread
and meat, which they brought in their pockets from the fort,
they reached the settlements on the river St. George, and no
further difficulties attended their return to their respective
families.

NOTE V

THERE is a particular transaction in the history
of our revolutionary war, which was known only to General Washington
and a single confidential officer, the gallant Major Lee, commander
of a corps of cavalry. As the story is particularly interesting,
and as it has never been disclosed to the public by any historian,
except by Major Lee in his valuable memoirs, I cannot resist
the temptation of enriching this work with the narration, in
the words of the respectable author.

"Lately, John Champe, sergeant-major
of the legion of cavalry, who had been for several months considered
by the corps a deserter, returned. This high-minded soldier had
been selected to undertake a very difficult and perilous project,
the narration of which is due to his merit, as well as to the
singularity of his progress.

"The treason of General Arnold, the capture
of Andre, with intelligence received by Washington, through his
confidential agents in New York, communicating that many of his
officers, and especially a Major-general named to him, were connected
with Arnold, could not not fail to seize the attention of a commander
even less diligent and zealous. It engaged his mind entirely,
exciting sensations the most anxious, as well as unpleasant.
The moment he reached the army, then under the orders of Major-General
Greene, encamped in the vicinity of Tappan, he sent for Major
Lee, posted with the light troops some distance in front. This
officer repaired to head-quarters with celerity, and found the
general in his marquee alone, busily engaged in writing. So soon
as Lee entered, he was requested to take a seat, and a bundle
of papers, lying on the table, was given him for perusal. In
these much information was detailed, tending to prove that Arnold
was not alone in the base conspiracy just detected, but that
the poison had spread; and that a major-general, whose name was
not concealed, was certainly as guilty as Arnold himself. This
officer had without interruption, the confidence of the commander-in-chief
throughout the war; nor did there exist a single reason in support
of the accusation. It altogether rested on the intelligence derived
from the papers before him. Major Lee, personally acquainted
with the accused, could not refrain from suggesting the probability
that the whole was a contrivance of Sir Henry Clinton, in order
to destroy that confidence between the commander and his officers,
on which the success of military operations depend. This suggestion,
Washington replied, was plausible, and deserved due consideration.
It had early occurred to his own mind, and had not been slightly
regarded; but his reflections settled in a conclusion not to
be shaken, as the same suggestion applied to no officer more
forcibly than a few days ago it would have done to General Arnold,
known now to be a traitor.

"Announcing this result of his meditations
with the tone and countenance of a mind deeply agitated, and
resolved on its course, Lee continued silent, when the general
proceeded: 'I have sent for you, in the expectation that you
have in your corps individuals capable and willing to
undertake an indispensable, delicate, and hazardous project.
Whoever comes forward on this occasion, will lay me under great
obligations personally; and in behalf of the United States, I
will reward him amply. No time is to be lost; he must proceed,
if possible, this night. My object is to probe to the bottom
the afflicting intelligence contained in the papers you have
just read, to seize Arnold, and by getting him, to save Andre.
They are all connected. While my emissary is engaged in preparing
means for the seizure of Arnold, the guilt of others can be traced;
and the timely delivery of Arnold to me, will possibly put it
into my power to restore the amiable and unfortunate Andre to
his friends. My instructions are ready, in which you will find
my express orders that Arnold is not to be hurt; but that he
be permitted to escape, if to be prevented only by killing him,
as his public punishment is the only object in view. This you
cannot too forcibly press on whoever may engage in the enterprise;
and this fail not to do. With my instructions are two letters,
to be delivered as ordered, and here are some guineas for expenses.'

" Major Lee, replying, said, that he
had little or no doubt but that his legion contained many individuals
daring enough for any operation, however perilous; but that the
one in view required a combination of qualities not easily to
be found, unless in a commissioned officer, to whom he could
not venture to propose an enterprise, the first step to which
was desertion; that though the sergeant-major of the cavalry
was in all respects qualified for the delicate and adventurous
project, and to him it might be proposed without indelicacy,
as his station did not interpose the obstacle before stated;
yet it was very probable that the same difficulty would occur
in his breast, to remove, which would not be easy, if practicable.

"Washington was highly pleased with finding
that a non-commissioned officer was deemed capable of executing
his views; as he had felt extreme difficulty in authorizing an
invitation to officers, who generally are, and always ought to
be, scrupulous and nice in adhering to the course of honor. He
asked the name, the country, the age, the size, length of service,
and character of the sergeant.

"'Being told his name - that he was a
native of Loudon county in Virginia; about twenty-four years
of age - that he had enlisted in 1776 - rather above the common
size, full of bone and muscle, with a saturnine countenance,
grave, thoughtful and taciturn - of tried courage and inflexible
perseverance, and as likely to reject an overture Icoupled with
ignominy as any officer in the corps; a commission being the
goal of his long and anxious exertions, and certain on the first
vacancy.

"The general exclaimed that he was the
very man for the business; that he must undertake it; and that
going to the enemy by the instigation and at the request of his
officer was not desertion, though it appeared to be so; and he
enjoined that this explanation, as coming from him, should be
pressed on Champe; and that the vast good in prospect should
be contrasted with the mere semblance of doing wrong, which he
presumed could not fail to conquer every scruple. Major Lee assured
the general that every exertion would be assayed on his part
to execute his wishes; and, taking leave, returned to the camp
of the light corps, which he reached about eight o'clock at night.
Sending instantly for the sergeant-major, he introduced the business
in the way best calculated, as he thought, to produce his concurrence;
and dilated largely on the very great obligations he would confer
on the commander-in-chief, whose unchanging and active beneficenoe
to the troops had justly drawn to him their affection, which
would be merely nominal, if, when an opportunity should offer
to any individual of contributing, to the promotion of his views,
that opportunity was not zealously embraced. That the one now
presented to him had never before occurred and in all probability.
would never occur again, even should the war continue for ages;
it being most rare for these distinct consequences, all of primary
weight, to be comprised within a single operation, and that operation
necessarily to be intrusted to one man, who would want but one
or two associates in the active parts of its execution. That
the chance of detection became extremely narrow, and consequently
that of success enlarged. That by succeeding in the safe delivery
of Arnold, he not only gratified his general in the most acceptable
manner, but be would be hailed as the avenger of the reputation
of the army, stained by foul and wicked perfidy; and, what could
not but be highly pleasing, he would be the instrument of saving
the life of Major Andre, soon to be brought before a court of
inquiry, the decision of which could not be doubted, from the
universally known circumstances of the case, and had been anticipated
in the general's instructions. That. by investigating with diligence
and accuracy the intelligence communicated to him, he would bring
to light new guilt, or he would relieve innocence, as was most
probable, from distrust; quieting the torturing suspicions which
now harrowed the mind of Washington, and restoring again to his
confidence a once-honored general, possessing it at present only
ostensibly, as well as hush doubts affecting many of his brother-soldiers.

"In short, the accomplishment of so much
good was in itself too attractive to be renounced by a generous
mind; and when connected with the recollection of the high honor
which the selection shed on him as a soldier, he ought not -
he must not pause. The discourse was followed by a detail of
the plan, with a wish that he would enter on its execution instantly.
Champe listened with deep attention, and with a highly-excited
countenance; the perturbations of his breast not being hid even
by his dark visage. He briefly and modestly replied, that no
soldier exceeded him in respect and affection for the commander-in-chief
to serve whom he would willingly lay down his life; and that
be was sensible of the honor conferred by the choice of him for
the execution of a project all over arduous; nor could he be
at a loss to know to whom was to be ascribed the preference bestowed,
which be took pleasure in acknowledging, though increasing obligations
before great and many, that he was charmed with the plan. Even
its partial success would lead to great good; as it would give
peace to the general's mind, and do justice, as he hoped, to
innocence. Full success added powerful and delicious personal
incitements, as well as the gratification of the general and
army. He was not, be said, deterred by the danger and difficulty
which was evidently to be encountered, but he was deterred by
the ignominy of desertion, to be followed by the hypocrisy of
enlisting with the enemy; neither of which comported with his
feelings, and either placed an insuperable bar in his way to
promotion. He concluded by observing, if any mode could be contrived
free from disgrace, he would cordially embark in the enterprise.
As it was, he prayed to be excused; and hoped that services,
always the best in his power to perform, faithfully executed,
did entitle his prayer to success.

"The objections at first apprehended,
now to be combated were extended to a consequence which had not
suggested itself. Lee candidly admitted that he had expected
the first objection made, and that only; which had been imparted
to the general, who gave to it full consideration, and concluded
by declaring that the crime of desertion was not incurred; as
no act done by the soldier at the request of the commander-in-chief
could be considered as desertion, and that an action so manifestly
praiseworthy as that to be performed, when known, would dissipate
by its own force the reflections excited by appearances, which
no doubt would be acrimonious, leaving the actor in full enjoyment
of the future rich rewards of his virtue. That the reflecting
mind ought not to balance between the achievement of so much
good, and the doing wrong in semblance only; to which Major Lee
subjoined, when in consequence of the general's call for a soldier
capable and willing to execute a project so tempting to the brave,
he considered himself and corps highly honored; and that he should
consider himself reduced to a mortifying condition, if the resistance
to the undertaking compelled him to inform the general that he
must recur to some other corps to provide an agent to execute
this necessary and bold enterprise. He entreated the sergeant
to ask himself what must be the sensations of his comrades if
a soldier from some other corps should execute the enterprise,
when they should be told that the glory transferred to the regiment
of which he was one, might have been enjoyed by the legion, had
not Sergeant Champe shrunk from the overture made to him by his
general, rather than reject scruples too narrow and confined
to be permitted to interfere with grand and virtuous deeds.

"The esprit du corps could not
be resisted, and, united to his inclination, it subdued his prejudices,
and he declared his willingness to conform to the wishes of the
general; relying, as he confidently did, that his reputation
would be protected by those who had induced him to undertake
the enterprise, should he be unfortunate in the attempt.

"The instructions were read to him, and
every distinct object presented plainly to his view, of which
he took notes so disguised as to be understood only by himself.
He was particularly cautioned to use the utmost circumspection
in delivering his letters, and to take care to withhold from
the two individuals, addressed under feigned names, knowledge
of each other; for though both had long been in the confidence
of the general, yet it was not known by one that the other was
so engaged. He was further urged to bear in constant recollection
the solemn injunction so pointedly expressed in the instructions
to Major Lee, of forbearing to kill Arnold in any condition of
things.

"This part of the business being finished,
the major's and sergeant's deliberations were turned to the manner
of the latter's desertion; for it was well known to both that
to pass the numerous patroles of horse and foot crossing from
the stationary guards, was itself difficult, which was now rendered
more so by parties thrown occasionally beyond the place called
Liberty-pole, as well as by swarms of irregulars, induced sometimes
to venture down to the very point of Paulus' Hook with the hope
of picking up booty. Evidently discernible as were the difficulties
in the way, no relief could be admInistered by Major Lee, lest
it might induce a belief that he was privy to the desertion,
which opinion getting to the enemy would involve the life of
Champe. The sergeant was left to his own resources and to his
own management, with the declared determination that in case
his departure should be discovered before morning, Lee would
take care to delay pursuit as long as was practicable.

"Giving to the sergeant three guineas,
and presenting his best wishes, he recommended him to start without
delay, and enjoined him to communicate his arrival in New York
as soon thereafter as might be practicable. Champe, pulling out
his watch, compared it with the major's, reminding the latter
of the importance of holding back pursuit, which he was convinced
would take place in the course of the night, and which might
be fatal, as he knew that he should be obliged to zigzag in order
to avoid the patroles, which would consume time. It was now nearly
eleven. The sergeant returned to camp, and taking his cloak,
valise and orderly-book, he drew his horse from the picket, and,
mounting him, put himself on fortune. Lee, charmed with his expeditious
consummation of the first part of the enterprise, retired to
rest. Useless attempt! the past scene could not be obliterated;
and, indeed, had that been practicable, the interruption which
ensued would have stopped repose.

"Within half an hour Captain Carnes,
officer of the day, waited on the major, and with considerable
emotion told him that one of the patrole had fallen in with a
dragoon, who, being challenged, put spur to his horse, and escaped,
though instantly pursued. Lee, complaining of the interruption,
and pretending to be extremely fatigued by his ride to and from
head-quarters, answered as if he did not understand what had
been said, which compelled the captain to repeat it. 'Who can
the fellow that was pursued be?' inquired the major; adding,
'a countryman, probably.' 'No' replied the captain; 'the patrole
sufficiently distinguished him to know that be was a dragoon;
probably one from the army, if not certainly one of our own.'
This idea was ridiculed from its improbability, as, during the
whole war, but a single dragoon had deserted from the legion.
This did not convince Carnes, so much stress was it now the fashion
to lay on the desertion of Arnold, and the probable effect of
his example, The captain withdrew to examine the squadron of
horse, whom he had ordered to assemble in pursuance of established
usage on similar occasions. Very quickly he returned, stating
that the scoundrel was known, and was no less a person than the
sergeant-major, who was gone off with his horse, baggage, arms
and orderly-book - so presumed, as neither the one nor the other
could be found. Sensibly affected at the supposed baseness of
a soldier extremely respected, the captain added that he had
ordered a party to make ready for pursuit, and begged the major's
written orders.

"Occasionally this discourse was interrupted,
and every idea suggested which the excellent character of the
sergeant warranted, to induce the suspicion that he had not deserted,
but had taken the liberty to leave camp with a view to personal
pleasure; an example, said Lee, too often set by the officers
themselves, destructive as it was of discipline opposed as it
was to orders, and disastrous as it might prove to the corps
in the course of service.

Some little delay was thus interposed; but
it being now announced that the pursuing party was ready, Major
Lee directed a change in the officer, saying that he had a particular
service in view, which he had determined to intrust to the lieutenant
ready for duty, and which probably must be performed in the morning.
He therefore directed him to summon Cornet Middleton for the
present command. Lee was induced thus to act, first to add to
the delay, and next from his knowledge of the tenderness of Middleton's
disposition, which he hoped would lead to the protection of Champe,
should he be taken. Within ten minutes Middleton appeared to
receive his orders, which were delivered to him, made out in
the customary form, and signed by the major. 'Pursue so far as
you can with safety Sergeant Champe, who is suspected of deserting
to the enemy, and has taken the road leading to Paulus' Hook.
Bring him alive, that he may suffer in the presence of the army;
but kill him if he resists, or escapes after being taken.'

"Detaining the cornet a few minutes longer
in advising him what course to pursue - urging him to take care
of the horse and accoutrements, if recovered - and enjoining
him to be on his guard, lest he might, by his eager pursuit,
improvidently fall into the hands of the enemy - the major dismissed
Middleton, wishing him success. A shower of rain fell soon after
Champe's departure, which enabled the pursuing dragoons to take
the trail of his horse; knowing, as officer and trooper did,
the make of their shoes, whose impression was an unerring guide
(the horses being all shod by our own farriers, the shoes were
made in the same form; which, with a private mark annexed to
the fore shoes, and known to the troopers, pointed out the trail
of our dragoons to each other, which was often very useful.)

"When Middleton departed, it was a few
minutes past twelve, so that Champe had only the start of rather
more than an hour - by no means so long as was desired. Lee became
very unhappy, not only because the estimable and gallant Champe
might be injured, but lest the enterprise might be delayed; and
be spent a sleepless night. The pursuing party during the night
was, delayed by the necessary halts to examine the road, as the
impression of the horse's shoes directed their course; this was
unfortunately too evident, no other horse having passed along
the road since the shower. When the day broke, Middleton was
no longer forced to halt, and he passed on with rapidity. Ascending
an eminence before he reached the Three Pigeons, some miles on
the north of the village of Bergen, as the pursuing patty reached
its summit, Champe was descried not more than half a mile in
front. Resembling an Indian in his vigilance, the sergeant at
the same moment discovered the party, to whose object he was
no stranger, and, giving spur to his horse, he determined to
outstrip his pursuers. Middleton at the same instant put his
horses to the top of their speed; and being, as the legion all
were, well acquainted with the country, he recollected a short
route through the woods to the bridge below Bergen, which diverged
from the great road just after you gain the Three Pigeons. Reaching
the point of separation, he halted, and dividing his party, directed
a sergeant with a few dragoons to take the near cut, and possess
with all possible despatch the bridge, while he with the residue,
followed Champe; not doubting but that Champe must deliver himself
up, as he would be inclosed between himself and his sergeant.
Champe did not forget the short cut, and would have taken it
himself, but he knew it was the usual route of our parties when
returning in the day from the neighborhood of the enemy, properly
preferring the woods to the road. He consequently avoided it;
and, persuaded that Middleton would avail himself of it, wisely
resolved to relinquish his intention of getting to Paulus' Hook,
and to seek refuge from two British galleys, lying a few miles
to The west of Bergen.

"This was a station always occupied by
one or two galleys, and which it was known now lay there. Entering
the village or Bergen, Champe turned to his right, and. disguising
his change of course as much as be could by taking the beaten
streets, turning as they turned, he passed through the village,
and took the road towards Elizabeth town Point. Middleton's sergeant
gained the bridge, where he concealed himself, ready to pounce
on Champe, when he came up; and Middleton, pursuing his course
through Bergen, soon got also to the bridge, when, to his extreme
mortification, he found that the sergeant had slipped through
his fingers. Returning up the road, he inquired of the villagers
of Bergen whether a dragoon had been seen that morning preceding
his party. He was answered in the affirmative, but could learn
nothing satisfactory as to the route he had taken. While engaged
in inquiries himself, he spread his party through the village
to strike the trail of Champe's horse, a resort always recurred
to. Some of his dragoons hit it, just as the sergeant, leaving
the village, got in the road to the point. Pursuit was renewed
with vigor, and again Champe was descried. He, apprehending the
event, had prepared himself for it, by lashing his valise, containing
his clothes and orderly-book, on his shoulders, and holding his
drawn sword in his hand, having thrown away its scabbard. This
he did to save what was indispensable to him, and to prevent
any interruption to his swimming from the scabbard, should Middleton,
as he presumed, when disappointed at the bridge, take the measures
adopted by him. The pursuit was rapid and close, as the stop
occasioned by the sergeant's preparations for swimming had brougbt
Middleton within two or three hundred yards. As soon as Champe
got abreast of the galleys, he dismounted, and running through
the marsh to the river, plunged Into it, calling on the galleys
for help. This was readily given; they fired on our horse, and
sent a boat to meet Champe, who was taken in and carried on board,
and conveyed to New York with a letter from the captain of the
galley, stating the past scene, all of which he had seen.

"The horse with his equipments, the sergeant's
cloak and sword scabbard, were recovered; the sword itself, being
held by Champe till he plunged into the river, was lost, as Middleton
found it necessary to retire without searching for it.

"About three o'clock in the evening our
party returned; and the soldiers, seeing the horse, well known
to them, in our possession, made the air resound with exclamations
that the scoundrel was killed.

"Major Lee, called by this heart-rending
annunciation from his tent, saw the sergeant's horse led by one
of Middleton's dragoons, and began to reproach himself with the
blood of the highly-prized, faithful, and intrepid Champe. Stifling
his agony, he advanced to meet Middleton, and became somewhat
relieved as soon as he got near enough to discern the countenance
of his officer and party. There was evidence in their looks of
disappointment, and he was quickly relieved by Middleton's information
that the sergeant had effected his escape with the loss of his
horse, and narrated the particulars just recited.

"Lee's joy was now as full as, the moment
before, his torture had been excruciating. Never was a happier
conclusion. The sergeant escaped unhurt, carrying with him to
the enemy undeniable testimony of the sincerity of his desertion
- cancelling every apprehension before entertained, lest the
enemy might suspect him of being what he really was.

"Major Lee imparted to the commander-in-chief
the occurrence, who was sensibly affected by the hair-breadth
escape of Champe, and anticipated with pleasure the good effect
sure to follow the enemy's knowledge of its manner.

"On the fourth day after Champe's departure,
Lee received a letter from him, written the day before in a disguised
hand, without any signature, and stating what had passed, after
he got on board the galley, where he was kindly received.

"He was carried to the commandant of
New York as soon as he arrived, and presented the letter addressed
to this officer from the captain of the galley. Being asked to
what corps he belonged, and a few other common questions, he
was sent under care of an orderly-sergeant, to the adjutant-general,
who, finding that he was sergeant-major of the legion of horse,
heretofore remarkable for their fidelity, he began to interrogate
him. He was told by Champe that such was the. spirit of defection
which prevailed among the American troops, in consequence of
Arnold's example, that, he had no doubt, if the temper was properly
cherished, Washington's ranks would not only be greatly thinned,
but that some of his best corps would leave him. To this conclusion,
the sergeant said, he was led by his own observations, and especially
by his knowledge of the discontents which agitated the corps
to which he had belonged. His size, place of birth, his form,
countenance, color of his hair, the corps in which be had served,
with other remarks in conformity to the British usage, was noted
in a large folio book. After this was finished, be was sent to
the commander-in-chief, in charge of one of the staff, with a
letter from the adjutant-general. Sir Henry Clinton treated him
very kindly, and detained him more than an hour, asking him many
questions, all leading - first; to know to what extent this spirit
of defection might be pushed by proper incitements - what were
the most operating incitements - whether any general officers
were suspected by Washington as concerned in Arnold's conspiracy,
or any other officers of note - who they were, and whether the
troops approved or censured Washington's suspicions - whether
his popularity in the army was sinking, or continued stationary.
What was Major Andre's situation -whether any change had taken
place in the manner of his confinement - what was the current
opinion of his probable fate-and whether it was thought Washington
would treat him as a spy. To these various interrogations, some
of which were perplexing, Champe answered warily; exciting, nevertheless,
hopes that the adoption of proper measures to encourage desertion,
of which he could not pretend to form an opinion, would certainly
bring off hundreds of the American soldiers including some of
the best troops, horse as well as foot. Respecting the fate of
Andre he said he was ignorant, though appeared to be a general
wish in the army that his life should not be taken; and. that
he believed it would depend more on the disposition of Congress,
than on the will of Washington.

"After this long conversation ended,
Sir Henry presented Champe with a couple of guineas, and recommended
him to wait on General Arnold, who was engaged in raising an
American legion in the service of his majesty. He directed one
of his aids to write to Arnold by Champe. stating who he was,
and what he had said about the disposition in the army to follow
his example, which was very soon done; it was given to the orderly
attending on Champe, to be presented with the deserter to General
Arnold. Arnold expressed much satisfaction on bearing from Champe
the manner of his escape, and the effect of Arnold's example;
and concluded his numerous inquiries by assigning quarters to
the sergeant - the same as were occupied by his recruiting-sergeants.

"He also proposed to Champe to join his
legion, telling him he could give to him the same station be
had held in the rebel service, and promising further advancement
when merited. Expressing his wish to retire from war, and his
conviction of the certainty of his being hung if ever taken by
the rebels, he begged to be excused from enlistment; assuring
the general that, should he change his mind, he would certainly
accept his offer. Retiring to the assigned quarters, Champe now
turned his attention to the delivery of his letters, which he
could not effect till the next night, and then only to one of
the two incogniti to whom he was recommended. This man
received the sergeant with extreme attention, and, having read
the letter, assured Champe that he might rely on his faithful
cooperation in doing every thing in his power consistently with
his safety, to guard which required the utmost prudence and circumspection.
The sole object in which the aid of this individual was required,
regarded the general and others of our army, implicated in the
information sent to Washington by him. To this object Champe
urged his attention, assuring him of the solicitude it had excited,
and telling him that its speedy investigation had induced the
general to send him into New York. Promising to enter on it with
zeal, and engaging to send out Champe's letter to Major Lee,
he fixed the time and place for their next meeting, when they
separated.

"Lee made known to the general what bad
been transmitted to him by Champe, and received in answer directions
to press Champe to the expeditious conclusion of his mission
as the fate of Andre would be soon decided, when little or no
delay could be admitted in executing whatever sentence the court
might decree. The same messenger who brought Champe's letter,
returned with the ordered communication. Five days had nearly
elapsed after reaching New York, before Champe saw the confldant
to whom only the attempt against Arnold was to be intrusted.
This Person entered with promptitude into the design, promising
his cordial assistance. To procure a proper associate to Champe
was the first object, and this he promised to do with all possible
despatch. Furnishing a conveyance to Lee he again heard from
Champe, who stated what I have related, with the additional intelligence
that he had that morning, the last of September, been appointed
one of Arnold's recruiting-sergeants, having enlisted the day
before with Arnold; and that he was induced to take this afflicting
step, for the purpose of securing uninterrupted ingress and egress
to the house which the general occupied, it being indispensable
to a speedy conclusion of the difficult enterprise which the
information be had just received had so forcibly urged. He added,
that the difficulties in his way were numerous and stubborn,
and that his prospect of success was by no means cheering. With
respect to the additional treason, he asserted that he had every
reason to believe that it was groundless; that the report took
its rise in the enemy's camp, and that he hoped soon to clear,
up this matter satisfactorily. The pleasure which the first part
of this communication afforded was damped by the tidings it imparted
respecting Arnold, as on his speedy delivery depended Andre's
relief. The interposition of Sir Henry Clinton, who was extremely
anxious to save his much-loved aid-de-camp, still continued;
and it was expected the examination of witnesses and the defence
of the prisoner would protract the decision of the, court of
inquiry, now assembled, and give sufficient time for the consummation
of the project committed to Champe. A complete disappointment
took place from a quarter unforeseen and unexpected. The honorable
and accomplished Andre, knowing his guilt, disdained defence,
and prevented the examination of witnesses, by confessing the
character in which be stood. On the next day, the 2d of October,
the court again assembled, when every doubt that could possibly
arise in the case having been removed by the previous confession,
Andre was declared to be a spy, and condemned to suffer accordingly.

"The sentence was executed on the subsequent
day in the usual form, the commander-in-chief deeming it improper
to interpose any delay. In this decision he was warranted by
the very unpromising intelligence received from Champe-by the
still existing implication of other officers in Arnold 's conspiracy
- by a due regard to public opinion - and by real tenderness
to the condemned.

" Neither Congress nor the nation could
have been with propriety informed of the cause of the delay,
and without such information it must have excited in both alarm
and suspicion. Andre himself could not have been intrusted with
the secret, and would consequently have attributed the unlooked-for
event to the expostulation and exertion of Sir Henry Clinton,
which would not fail to produce in his breast expectations of
ultimate relief; to excite which would have been cruel, as the
realization of such expectation depended only on a possible but
improbable contingency. The fate of Andre, hastened by himself,
deprived the enterprise committed to Champe of a feature which
bad been highly prized by its projector, and which had very much
engaged the heart of the individual chosen to execute it.

"Washington ordered Major Lee to communicate
what had passed to the sergeant, with directions to encourage
him to prosecute with unrelaxed vigor the remaining objects of
his instructions, but to intermit haste in the execution only
so far as was compatible with final success.

"This was accordingly done, by the first
opportunity, in the manner directed. Champe deplored the sad
necessity which occurred, and candidly confessed that the hope
of enabling Washington to save the life of Andre, who had been
the subject of universal commiseration in the American camp,
greatly contributed to remove the serious difficulties which
opposed his acceding to the proposition when first propounded.
Some documents accompanied this communication, tending to prove
the innocence of the accused general; they were completely satisfactory,
and did credit to the discrimination, zeal and diligence of the
sergeant. Lee inclosed them immediately to the commander-in-chief,
who was pleased to express the satisfaction he derived from the
information, and to order the major to wait on him the next day;
when the whole subject was reexamined, and the distrust heretofore
entertained of the accused was forever dismissed. Nothing now
remained to be done but the seizure and safe delivery of Arnold.
To this object Champe gave his undivided attention; and on the
19th of October, Major Lee received from him a very particular
account of the progress he had made, with the outlines of his
plan. This was without delay submitted to Washington; with a
request for a few additional guineas. The general's letter, written
on the same day,

Copy of a Letter from General Washington to
Major Lee, in his own hand-Writing, dated

"OCTOBER 23d, 1780.

"DEAR SIR: I am very glad your letter
of this date has given strength to my conviction of the innocence
of the gentleman who was the subject of your inquiry. I want
to see you on a particular piece of business. If the day is fair,
and nothing of consequence intervenes, I will be at the marquis'
quarters at ten o'clock to-morrow. If this should not happen,
I shall be glad to see you at head-quarters.

"I am, dear air, your most obedient servant,
"G. WASHINGTON."

Copy of a Letter from General Washington to
Major Lee in his own hand-writing.

"HEAD-QUARTERS, October 20th, 1780.

"DEAR SIR: The plan proposed for taking
A--d, the outlines of which are communicated in your letter,
which was this moment put into my hands without date, has every
mark of a good one. I therefore agree to the promised rewards;
and have such entire confidence in your management of the business,
as to give it my fullest approbation; and leave the whole to
the guidance of your own judgment, with this express stipulation
and pointed injunction, that he, A---d, is brought to me alive.

" No circumstance whatever shall obtain
my consent to his being put to death. The idea which would accompany
such an event, would be that ruffians had been hired to assassinate
him. My aim is to make a public example of him; and this should
be strongly impressed on those who are employed to bring him
off. The sergeant must be very circumspect, too much zeal may
create suspicion, and too much precipitancy may defeat the project.
The most inviolable secrecy must be observed on all hands. I
send you five guineas; but I am not satisfied of the propriety
of the sergeant's appearing with much specie. This circumstance
may also lead to suspicion, as it is but too well known to the
enemy that we do not abound in this article.

"The interviews between the party, in
and out of the city, should be managed with much caution and
seeming indifference; or else the frequency of their meetings,
&c., may betray the design, and involve bad consequences;
but I am persuaded you will place every matter in a proper point
of view to the conductors of this interesting business, and therefore
I shall only add, that

"I am, dear sir, &c., &c.

''G. WASHINGTON."

20th October, evinces his attention to the
minutiae of business, as well as his immutable determination
to possess Arnold alive, or not at all. This was his original
injunction, which he never omitted to enforce on every proper
occasion.

"Major Lee had an opportunity, in the
course of the week, of writing to Champe, when he told him that
the rewards which he had promised to his associates would be
certainly paid on the delivery of Arnold; and in the mean time,
small sums of money would be furnished for casual expenses, it
being deemed improper that he should appear with much, lest it
might lead to suspicion and detection. That five guineas were
now sent, and that more would follow when absolutely necessary.

" Ten days elapsed before Champe brought
his measures to conclusion, when Lee received from him his final
communication, appointing the third subsequent night for a party
of dragoons to meet him at Hoboken, when he hoped to deliver
Arnold to the officer. Champe had, from his enlistment into the
American legion, (Arnold's corps,) every opportunity he could
wish to attend to the habits of the general. He discovered that
it was his custom to return home about twelve every night, and
that previous to going to bed he always visited the garden. During
this visit the conspirators were to seize him, and, being prepared
with a gag, intended to have applied the same instantly.

"Adjoining the house in which Arnold
resided, and in which it was designed to seize and gag him, Champe
had taken off several of the palings and replaced them so that
with care and without noise he could readily open his way to
the adjoining alley. Into this alley he meant to have conveyed
his prisoner, aided by his companion, one of two associates who
had been introduced by the friend to whom Champe had been originally
made known by letter from the commander-in-chief, and with whose
aid and counsel he had so far conducted the enterprise. His other
associate was with the boat prepared at one of the wharves on
the
Hudson river to receive the party.

"Champe and his friend intended to have
placed themselves each under Arnold's shoulder, and to have thus
borne him through the most unfrequented alleys and streets to
the boat; representing Arnold, in case of being questioned, as
a drunken soldier whom they were conveying to the guard-house.

"When arrived at the boat, the difficulties
would be all surmounted, there being no danger nor obstacle in
passing to the Jersey shore. These particulars, so soon as known
to Lee, were communicated to the commander-in-chief, who was
highly gratified with the much-desired intelligence. He directed
Major Lee to meet Champe, and to take care that Arnold should
not be hurt. The day arrived, and Lee with a party of dragoons
left camp late in the evening, with three led accoutred horses;
one for Arnold, one for the sergeant, and the third for his associate,
never doubting the success of the enterprise, from the tenor
of the last-received communication. The party reached Hoboken
about midnight, where they were concealed in the adjoining wood
- Lee with three dragoons stationing himself near the river-shore.
Hour after hour passed-no boat approached. At length the day
broke, and the major retired to his party, and with his led horses
returned to camp, when be proceeded to head-quarters to inform
the general of the much-lamented disappointment, as mortifying
as inexplicable. Washington having perused Cbampe's plan and
communication, had indulged the presumption that at length the
object of his keen and constant pursuit was sure of execution,
and did not dissemble the joy such conviction produced. He was
chagrined at the issue, and apprehended that his faithful sergeant
must have been detected in the last scene of his tedious and
difficult enterprise.

"In a few days Lee received an anonymous
letter from Champe's patron and friend, informing him that on
the day preceding the night fixed for the execution of the plot,
Arnold had removed his quarters to another part of the town,
to superintend the embarkation of troops, preparing, as was rumored,
for an expedition to be directed by him self; and that the American
legion, consisting chiefly of American deserters, had been transferred
from their barracks to one of the transports; it being apprehended
that if left on shore till the expedition was ready, many of
them might desert. Thus it happened that John Champe, instead
of crossing the Hudson that night, was safely deposited on board
one of the fleet of transports, whence be never departed till
the troops under Arnold landed in Virginia! nor was he able to
escape from the British army till after the junction of Lord
Cornwallis at Petersburg, when he deserted, and proceeding high
up into Virginia, he passed into North Carolina, near the Sama
towns, and, keeping in the friendly districts of that state,
safely joined the army soon after it had passed the Congaree
in pursuit of Lord Rawdon.

"His appearance excited extreme surprise
among his former comrades which was not a little increased when
they saw the cordial reception he met with from the late major,
now Lieutenant-Colonel Lee. His whole story soon became known
to the corps, which reproduced the love and respect of officer
and soldier, heretofore invariably entertained for the sergeant,
heightened by universal admiration of his late daring and arduous
attempt.

"Champe was introduced to General Greene,
who very cheerfully complied with the promises made by the commander-in-chief,
so far as in his power; and having provided the sergeant with
a good horse and money for his journey, sent him to General Washington,
who munificently anticipated every desire of the sergeant, and
presented him with his discharge from further service,* lest
he might in the vicissitudes of war fall into the enemy's hands;
when, if recognized, he was sure to die on the gibbet."

*When General Washington was called by President
Adams to the command of the army, prepared to defend the country
from French hostility, he sent to Lieutenant-Colonel Lee, to
inquire for Champe; being determined to bring him into the field
at the head of a company of infantry. Lee sent to Loudon county,
where Champe settled after his discharge from the army; when
he learned that the gallant soldier had removed to Kentucky,
where he soon after died.